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club had given you a perfectly good house to stay in. For as long as you needed it.’

      ‘I want my own place, okay?’

      ‘Is the city centre the most sensible choice of location, son? It’s a bit close to…’

      ‘That house, it wasn’t me,’ Ryan interrupted. ‘I wasn’t comfortable there.’

      His father fixed him with a stare that demanded the truth. ‘Are you…?’

      ‘Am I, what?’ Ryan asked, his stare just as determined.

      ‘You know what I’m asking, Ryan.’

      ‘I’m getting there, Dad. That’s all you need to know.’

      ‘Aye, well, as long as you are, lad. As long as you are.’

      ‘Do I look alright?’ Amber asked Ronnie as he pulled up at the corner of the street where Franco’s restaurant was situated.

      ‘You look fine,’ Ronnie replied as he fiddled with his in-car MP3 player.

      Amber looked at him. ‘Fine. I look fine?’

      Ronnie stared at her. ‘Yeah. You look fine.’

      Amber said nothing, just raised her eyebrows and gave him a wide-eyed look. Ronnie shrugged, genuinely confused. ‘What? What do you want me to say? Who the hell am I? Gok frigging Wan? You look great, okay? Is that better?’

      Amber still said nothing, just pulled down the visor and checked her face in the small, side-lit mirror, running her tongue over her teeth just in case any pale pink lip gloss had found its way on there.

      ‘Do you know what you’re doing?’ Ronnie asked, finally finding a playlist he was happy with.

      Amber looked at him. ‘Of course I know what I’m doing. I’m having dinner with Ryan Fisher.’

      ‘You know what I mean. I want to make sure you know just what it is you might be getting into. Although, if you want my opinion…’

      ‘Which I don’t.’

      Ronnie ignored her. ‘If you want my opinion, I don’t think you should be getting into it at all.’

      ‘I’m not getting “into” anything, Ronnie.’

      ‘Well, with the greatest of respect, Amber, you already are into something when you sleep with somebody.’

      ‘So, what does that make our relationship then? Huh? Do you want to explain that one?’

      Ronnie looked out of the window for a second. She kind of had him there.

      ‘No, didn’t think so. Because you can’t, can you? Look, Ronnie, like I said before, I’m not getting “into” anything. I’m just having dinner. That’s all. Ryan and I both know where we stand, and just because we appear to be doing things a little back to front, it doesn’t actually have to mean anything’s going on.’

      ‘Y’know, you might think you’re all hard-faced and nobody can tell you anything, but you’re still my best friend and I care about you, okay? And, let’s face it, where men are concerned you’re not exactly experienced, are you?’

      ‘Yeah, thanks for that, Ronnie.’

      ‘Amber, sweetheart… you said that all of this doesn’t have to mean that anything’s going on, but…’

      ‘But what?’ Amber asked, looking right into Ronnie’s eyes.

      ‘But… do you want something to happen? Even just a little bit?’

      She sat back in the passenger seat of his black BMW, the dark leather interior cool against her skin. ‘Look, Ronnie, I know I’ve always said I really didn’t want to get involved with footballers, mainly because I assumed you were all like Ryan Fisher. But you proved me wrong, and I think Ryan might actually prove me wrong, too. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just getting softer, but I’m willing to see how tonight goes. People can change, y’know.’

      Ronnie raised a concerned eyebrow. ‘You think so, huh? You think someone like Ryan Fisher is just going to change overnight? Don’t go rushing into anything, Amber. Please.’

      ‘It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?’ Amber smiled, grabbing her handbag and opening the car door. ‘I mean, like you said before, we’ve already slept together, haven’t we?’

      Ronnie gave a resigned sigh, smiling back at her as she leaned in through the open passenger window, blowing him a kiss. ‘Have a good time, kiddo.’

      ‘I’ll try,’ she winked at him before waving him off, standing still for a few seconds, just to compose herself. Again. She seemed to be composing herself a lot where Ryan Fisher was concerned.

      The restaurant was busy when she finally walked in, but then it was Saturday night in the centre of town. She’d never actually been inside Franco’s before, mainly because it was the haunt of local celebrities and footballers and therefore the price range was a little out of her league, but she’d always wondered what it would be like to eat there. She was also one of life’s truly nosy people, and to be able to get a glimpse at the clientele that frequented this famous local restaurant was something she was particularly looking forward to.

      Sliding her clutch bag under her arm, she scanned the room as she waited at the front desk for the maitre d’, but she couldn’t see Ryan anywhere. What if he’d had a better offer from someone younger, thinner and blonde? She could do without that kind of kick in the teeth.

      ‘You look amazing.’

      She swung round at the sound of that now-familiar voice, trying to keep the smile off her face as she saw him standing there behind her. Dressed in a dark suit and white shirt, no tie, and that sexy, messed-up hair that he really was carrying off so well, it was all Amber could do to stop a sharp intake of breath from escaping. As usual, Ryan Fisher looked hot. Handsome, sexy, young and dangerous. Cocky, arrogant, selfish and smug. All things that described this man in front of her, but Amber was willing to give him that chance he seemed so set on having. But if he blew it, then she was walking away. No second chances, no lame explanations. She was breaking the biggest rule she’d ever set herself and if he gave her cause to regret that then this was going no further.

      ‘I was at the bar,’ he went on, his hands in his pockets, a smile on his handsome face. She couldn’t help noticing how sexy that beard of his really was. He suited it. It made her think of a young George Best in his heyday, and then she couldn’t help hoping that he didn’t resemble him in other ways, too. Because she’d heard the stories, listened to the rumours. ‘Do you want a drink before we get settled at our table?’

      ‘Please,’ Amber smiled, positive she was breaking out in some kind of hot flush. She was only eleven years older than him but she felt like some kind of Mrs. Robinson figure. She felt as if all eyes were on her, which they probably weren’t. But they could quite possibly all be on Ryan. ‘And make it a large one.’

      Ryan laughed a deep, almost rough-edged laugh that made Amber’s skin break out in a zillion goose bumps. Was there anything this man did that wasn’t sexy? ‘That kind of day, huh?’

      She looked at him as they walked over to the dimly-lit but cosy bar area, the low lighting making him look younger than his twenty-six years. She could only hope it was as kind to her. ‘Not really. I’m just nervous. There, I’ve said it. I’ll have a white wine, please.’

      ‘Okay. Coming up,’ he said, smiling slightly as he turned to order their drinks. ‘So,’ he went on, turning back to face her, ‘… want to know something? I’m nervous, too.’

      ‘Really?’ Amber asked, unable to hide the slightly cynical tone in her voice. She did, however, hope that he meant it and he wasn’t just saying it to make her feel better. Although even that would be a really kind thing for him to do. Hang on, had she just

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